Chapter 66 : True Legacy of Clear Sky

Chapter 66: True Legacy of Clear Sky

Summer sunlight streamed into a guest courtyard within the Clear Sky Sect.

Outside the walls, the sound of cicadas reverberated in the heat.

Inside the courtyard, Li Yang was practicing his spear, each thrust sweeping up fierce gusts of wind that slammed against the courtyard walls.

A young woman in blue robes, Zhao Linglong, entered through the gate.

She looked at Li Yang and asked with a hint of helplessness, “Cousin, you’ve been living in the Clear Sky Sect for quite some time now. Why don’t you go out and take a walk? The sect changes every day—it’s quite interesting.”

Li Yang did not respond.

He remained focused on his spear practice, causing Zhao Linglong to sigh in resignation.

Months had passed since that battle, yet Li Yang still hadn’t walked out from the shadows of that defeat.

He hardly even spoke to her anymore.

She understood what he was feeling.

Even though she had saved him, his heart was still filled with the sting of betrayal.

Before that, Li Yang had always shown her his martial skills, proudly speaking of his grand ambitions.

If she were in his place, she too might have struggled to accept such a blow—let alone someone with Li Yang’s pride.

Zhao Linglong sat down by the stone table in the courtyard and began chatting idly about the recent changes in the Clear Sky Sect.

“I heard that the Sect Master has taken another disciple, and his talent is extraordinary. He’s only five years old, yet he’s already hailed as the future number one of the Clear Sky Sect. I don’t know if the sect is exaggerating, or if the child truly is that incredible.”

“I also saw two disciples sparring the other day. You know, the martial arts of the Clear Sky Sect really are on another level. Their sword-controlling technique is so wondrous that even I wanted to learn it.”

“Have you heard the name Zhu Yan? She’s a renowned lady from Guzhou—skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Her poetry and songs are even well known across Zhongtian Province. Many scions of noble families admire her deeply. But most intriguing of all is that the maidservant beside her is not simple.”

Though Li Yang continued his spear training, his attention had already been drawn to her words.

In truth, he too was full of curiosity toward the Clear Sky Sect.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have stayed here for so long.

Zhao Linglong noticed his interest and smiled faintly as she went on talking about her experiences within the sect.

After a long while, Zhao Linglong grew tired from talking.

She stood up to leave, but just before stepping out, she suddenly remembered something and said, “Oh right—Yang Jueding built a Martial Discussion Platform halfway up the mountain. It’s open for Clear Sky disciples to spar with martial artists from the outside world. They stop at the point of contact—quite an interesting setup. There’s already a young man named Qin Ye who’s won twenty matches. They say he’s the Sect Master’s second disciple. If your hands are itching, you could go and give it a try.”

After she had gone for a while, Li Yang finally stopped his spear practice.

He slowly raised his head, looking up at the azure sky, murmuring under his breath, “Why must you be surnamed Li…”

He could never forget that scene—the day Li Qingqiu descended from the heavens atop an eagle.

It had overturned his understanding of the martial world and shaken some of his long-held beliefs.

He stayed in the Clear Sky Sect not just to recover from his injuries, but also to calm his heart.

Perhaps it was time to go out and see for himself what the Clear Sky Sect truly was now.

——

Zhongtian Province, the Imperial Capital.

As the capital of the Great Li Dynasty, its ancient name was Zhenyang—Zhenyang City.

It had stood for a thousand years, surviving five dynasties, witnessing countless rises and falls, and the changing course of the mortal world.

With the founding of the Great Li Dynasty, the Zhenyang Imperial City once again entered a golden age.

Standing on a pavilion balcony, Feng Dai, clad in a dark official robe, gazed over the boundless scenery of the ancient city.

With his hands clasped behind his back, he watched the sunset sink below the city walls.

Though he had been in the capital for some time, whenever he had a free moment, he would come here to admire the city’s beauty.

The pavilion was four stories tall, lavishly decorated with red tiles and eaves shaped like dragon heads, supported by redwood pillars.

Below, the streets bustled with life—crowds of citizens, merchants, and martial artists filled the roads, carriages rolling past in endless streams.

Each time Feng Dai came here, a sense of unreality welled in his heart.

In Guzhou, there was no city so prosperous, so magnificent.

But that prosperity also tormented his heart.

The people here lived in silk and gold, singing praises of His Majesty’s virtue, his benevolent governance, and his love for the people.

It was said to be an era unlike any before.

To expose the Emperor’s crimes now was impossible.

Even if the Emperor had committed sins, compared to his current achievements, those sins seemed almost insignificant.

Just as Feng Dai sank into confusion, footsteps sounded behind him.

Without turning around, he already knew who it was.

Jia Yi, dressed in the brocade uniform of the Imperial Guardian Army, strode into the room.

Sitting down at the table, he poured himself a bowl of wine and drained it in one gulp.

After downing three bowls in a row, he finally exhaled with satisfaction.

“The palace is getting stranger by the day. I’m starting to fear going in there.”

His first words caught Feng Dai’s attention.

Turning around, Feng Dai frowned and asked, “What do you mean by that?”

Jia Yi beckoned him over, motioning for him to sit.

When Feng Dai sat down, Jia Yi spoke in a low voice: “Didn’t His Majesty invite the martial sects of the world to a grand banquet? Some of the sect masters and clan leaders who entered the palace… never came out again. At night, there are always cries echoing from within—no one can tell if they’re men or women. Some say it’s the wailing of spirits.”

Feng Dai’s brows knit tighter.

“But there’s been no such rumor in the city. In fact, some sect leaders are boasting in public that they’ve seen the face of the Sage himself. His Majesty even conferred official titles upon a few sects.”

Jia Yi shook his head.

“That’s only the surface. I’m a member of the Imperial Guardian Army—I know what’s really going on. Some of our men have helped His Majesty dispose of corpses. They say those people died right in the Grand Hall.”

Feng Dai recalled what Wu Baoyu once told him: if the Demonic Cult truly had been founded by the Emperor, then the Emperor’s martial skill must be terrifyingly high.

And knowing His Majesty’s obsession with the Elixir of Immortality, Feng Dai couldn’t help but think in darker directions.

“Today, the Imperial Guardian Army was merged under the command of the Forbidden Martial Division. Our days will only grow harder now. You don’t know—the Forbidden Martial Division was founded after His Majesty ascended the throne. It answers only to him, not the Six Ministries. The Guardian Army, on the other hand, was founded by the Imperial Ancestor himself. Though it declined under the previous emperor, we still have heritage and honor. Now we’ve been reduced to subordinates of our rivals. How could our days possibly be good?”

Jia Yi sighed and poured himself another bowl of wine.

Feng Dai asked, “Your men are all elite—first-rank warriors, some once champions in the imperial martial exams, others top-tier experts. Even if you’re placed under supervision, could the Forbidden Martial Division truly control you?”

Jia Yi glared at him.

“Don’t underestimate them. The warriors of the Forbidden Martial Division are no weaker than us. What’s stranger is—I have no idea where His Majesty found so many experts. They always wear masks, act only at night, and even within the Imperial City, few know of their existence.”

“Their leader is called Lord Xuan. His martial prowess is unfathomable. No matter how strong his opponent, he can kill them with ease. A few years ago, I personally saw him slay the number one martial artist of South Chu Province—three moves, that’s all it took. His movements were ghostly, his palm force tyrannical beyond compare.”

Even as he recalled it, a shiver ran down Jia Yi’s spine.

“How does this Lord Xuan compare to Master Li?” Feng Dai asked curiously.

Jia Yi pondered for a moment.

“Hard to say. Neither has ever shown me their full strength. But from what I’ve seen, perhaps the only person in this world who could rival Lord Xuan… is the Master of the Clear Sky Sect.”

He remembered that time facing Li Qingqiu—his body trembled.

He never wished to experience the torment of the Soul Restraining Curse again.

Feng Dai’s brow furrowed, worry clouding his eyes.

The world had just regained peace—was the Emperor about to stir up chaos once more?

He would have to write to Master Li, urge him to prepare early.

If the Emperor’s target truly was the martial elites of the world, the Clear Sky Sect would not escape his reach.

Lately, the Clear Sky Sect’s astonishing victories had already drawn attention in the capital.

Feng Dai feared that Jiang Zhaoxia and Xu Ning might soon enter the Emperor’s sights.

Jia Yi, unaware of his thoughts, continued to vent his frustration.

Outside of Zhongtian, he had once held great prestige as a Guardian—but within the palace walls, he tread as if on thin ice, stripped of all standing.

——

The sunlight was bright, the mountain breeze cool.

Li Qingqiu descended the mountain with Yuan Li and Zhao Zhen, passing by the Martial Discussion Platform that Yang Jueding had built.

Yang Jueding and Xu Ning had already been away from the sect for ten days, bringing along five disciples for training and experience.

Li Qingqiu had no worries for them—Yang Jueding was a veteran of the martial world, and Xu Ning had seen blood.

In Guzhou, nothing should go wrong.

As they followed the mountain path through the forest, Li Qingqiu noticed a crowd gathered around the platform—disciples of the Clear Sky Sect, pilgrims, craftsmen, and wandering martial artists alike, cheering occasionally at the dueling atop the stage.

Patrols swept the mountain daily.

For now, peace held.

Li Qingqiu raised an eyebrow, his gaze falling on the two women sparring atop the platform—one was Liu Yan, disciple of Li Dongyue, and the other was a black-clad woman who looked familiar.

Soon, he recognized her.

Wasn’t she the Jianghu woman who had led him to the Seven Peaks Alliance that day?

Liu Yan, though at the First Layer of the Nourishing Vital Energy Realm, was clearly no match for Chai Yunshang.

Yet Chai Yunshang wasn’t making things hard for her—their “duel” was more like Chai Yunshang guiding her, helping her grasp deeper insights into her martial techniques.

Li Qingqiu did not stop walking.

Zhao Zhen and Yuan Li had little interest in watching.

As they passed, the Clear Sky disciples along the path turned and saluted him with cupped fists.

Chai Yunshang noticed the disciples’ movements and followed their gaze—her pupils suddenly widened.

It was him!

She could never forget that young man from years ago—the one who climbed the mountain alone, slew Lü Taidou under the cover of night, and left without a trace.

She might not have known his name, but she could never forget his face.

“He’s… a disciple of the Clear Sky Sect? No, his status must be far higher.”

Chai Yunshang thought to herself silently, suppressing her emotions and continuing the spar.

Below the stage, Gu Duba noticed her sudden reaction and turned his head.

He caught sight of Li Qingqiu’s back as he departed with two young boys.

“Those two boys following him… could he be the Sect Master of the Clear Sky Sect?”

Curiosity stirred in Gu Duba’s heart.

He and Chai Yunshang had been staying in the sect for some time, paying for temporary lodging.

Though they hadn’t met the Sect Master, they’d heard much about Li Qingqiu from the disciples’ mouths.

When Li Qingqiu and his companions disappeared into the forested path down the mountain, Gu Duba decided to follow.

He wanted to find an opportunity to plead with Li Qingqiu—to see if the manual he held could persuade the Sect Master to take Chai Yunshang as a disciple.

After following for about two li, Gu Duba suddenly saw Li Qingqiu halt and pull the two boys to a stop.

“Li’er, Zhen’er—today, your Master will teach you how to deal with villains.

How about it?”

Li Qingqiu’s calm voice rang out, startling Gu Duba, who hid behind a tree.

He instinctively wanted to step out and explain.

Then, a cold, echoing laugh resounded through the forest.

“So, apart from Jiang Zhaoxia and Xu Ning, the Clear Sky Sect still has other experts.

It seems our information wasn’t wrong.

The Sect Master of the Clear Sky Sect… has indeed inherited the true legacy of the Clear Sky Immortal.”

Gu Duba’s heart leapt.

Someone was lying in ambush here—for the Sect Master of the Clear Sky Sect?!